


Not Okay

by IAmTheMaestro



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 15:37:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10642848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmTheMaestro/pseuds/IAmTheMaestro
Summary: "Stay with me, Sherlock, stay with me. You're going to be fine, we can- I can fix this.""I'd like to believe that."





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Have a dose of feels. Sorry. This is what I do.  
> (First work, please ignore the fact that I barely know how to even use this site and my complete lack of tag ideas. Er, thanks)

Everything had been perfectly fine until that moment. For a split second Sherlock stood in shock, just as he was just seconds previously, before clasping a hand to his chest and collapsing against John.

"NO." John didn't bother to even look for who had done it; the only thing that was important right now was Sherlock. "No, no, Sherlock, no, please no. Christ, Sherlock."

Struggling to hold his friend upright, John fell to his knees on the ground. Tears were already welling up in his eyes as he sat on the floor with Sherlock across his lap.

"It's okay, John, really," Sherlock said, grimacing, between deep breaths in an attempt to console John.

"No, it's NOT okay!" John yelled in frustration that he was helpless, that Sherlock had been right. There was a time and place for everyone... but here and now? A single tear fell onto Sherlock's face as he leaned over him, followed by more.

"Stay with me, Sherlock, stay with me. You're going to be fine, we can- I can fix this."

Despite being in obvious unbearable pain, Sherlock managed to crack a sad smile up at his friend- his one best friend, who had stayed with him the whole time, who loved him even through his lower-than-average social skills, his rather unreasonable antics, his sociopathic tendencies. "I'd like to believe that."

"Sherlock, please- you can't- just don't-" John sobbed, memories from years ago replaying themselves in a devastating and nightmarish cycle: seeing Sherlock's body sprawled on the ground, standing at his grave- it had all been fake.

Sherlock reached a shaking hand up and gently turned John's face towards his so they were looking into each other's eyes. "I'm sorry, John, I'm so sorry," he said, his voice breaking. "It's not a trick this time."

John drew him into a tight embrace, sobbing over his shoulder and catching his last whispered word.

"Goodbye."

He buried his face in the detective's shoulder, wanting desperately to convey what he really thought of his friend, but being unable to form words. "Just don't- be dead," he finished finally. He knew it was useless. Sherlock's arms loosened their grip around him.

John didn't let go.


	2. Two

Everything had been perfectly fine until that moment.

For a split second Sherlock stood in shock, just as he was just seconds previously, before collapsing against John.

Now, this split second was a split second to John, but Sherlock's mind worked lightning fast. This split second was where John began to realize the horrible truth, and where Sherlock finally faced the horrible truth that he had so carefully prepared his mind for.

Obviously it wasn't ideal, but it was necessary. Sherlock knew who the killer was, and the killer knew that. Sherlock also knew that the killer was so desperate not to be caught that he was going to murder Sherlock if he had to. But, just to keep the detective aware and himself safe, he had a warning system- if Sherlock came too close to informing the police, one by one, as a reminder, his friends -his few friends- would be targeted. This could be avoided only by Sherlock sacrificing himself, instead. Sherlock had thought long and hard about this. If he were to tell, his friends would be the victims. Or he could go along with his plan and he would be the victim- the only victim, and the case would be solved.

As much as it tore him apart to force his companions into reliving the memories they had once experienced as a false, he saw no other choice. He valued their lives over his own.

Sherlock was going to die to save his friends.

Clutching onto John’s jacket, he forced himself into consciousness, to endure the pain, until the very last second. And it wasn't the sheer pain of the shot which hurt him, no- it was the look of complete shock and devastation on John’s face, which was soon to be spread to the other people he cared about most in his life, which made him feel like his heart had finally been broken in two, after so many years of surviving the fractures he himself had caused.

He reminded himself over and over again why he had done this- his friends were safe, the police would be here any minute now. Repeating the results in his head was all he could do.

“NO.”

The words echoed in Sherlock’s ears as he could feel everything shutting down within him.

“No, no, Sherlock, no, please no. Christ, Sherlock.” John, unable to support his friend’s weight any longer, fell to his knees with Sherlock across them. He couldn't bare to look at the expression on John’s face, but forced himself to.

“It's okay, John, really.” The words took a great deal of effort to say between heaving breaths, the pain becoming more numbing by the second as Sherlock felt a tear from his friend fall upon his face.

“No, it's NOT okay!” John yelled, not in anger with Sherlock, but the fact that there was nothing he could do but try and give him hope for something he probably wouldn't be fooled by. “Stay with me, Sherlock, stay with me, you're going to be fine, we can- I can fix this.”

They both knew it was a lie. Sherlock managed a sad smile, ignoring the pain in his now broken body- his broken heart. “I’d like to believe that.”

“Sherlock, please, you can't- just don't-”

John was sobbing, pleading, even after there was no hope. Sherlock cursed at himself inwardly; did he have to do this? Cause his friends this much pain when they had already been through it once, but this time would be faced with truth? But deep down, he knew: the answer was yes, it was pain to his friends rather than death to them.

With effort, he lifted his hand to John’s face, turning it towards his. The pain in his chest seemed less than the pain in his heart as he looked into his friend’s eyes, now filled with despair.

“I'm sorry, John, I'm so sorry.” Teas were now starting to fill Sherlock’s eyes, and one spilled over and down his cheek as he continued, voice breaking. “It's not a trick this time.”

John hugged Sherlock tightly, at a loss of any more words to say and things to do. All he could do was cry, it seemed, as his friend’s life faded.

Using the last of his strength, Sherlock shifted the paper he had been clutching in his fist to between his fingers as he returned John’s embrace.

Everything was fading. His strength, the light, his life, the sounds of John’s shuddering cries.

One last word, Sherlock willed. One last word, please, let there just be enough.

“Goodbye,” he whispered as the last of it left, as the dark overtook him, and John’s embrace grew tighter around him for the last time.

Even after Sherlock’s arms fell limp around him… John didn't let go.


End file.
